


A Strange New World

by therunawaypen



Series: 00Q Tumblr Prompt Fills [73]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Q is a Holmes, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has changed from the way it once was: new nations have risen from where the old had fallen, and a new social order has taken hold. A person can be identified at a young age by the trait that is strongest within them: Body, Mind, Heart, Soul, and they wear tattoos to make their Trait visible to the world.</p><p>Q has always lived in luxury as a prince, but he has seen the chaos caused by an unbalance of power between Traits. And it doesn't help that Q is to marry Prince James in order to secure an alliance between countries and stop unrest in other parts of the world.</p><p>But after talking to James, Q realizes he might just have an ally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Teenager 00Q? In a distopian society where their families are powerful, James and Q must marry to combine territory in (former) London at risk of war. But maybe it really isn’t as bad as it could be… —anon

The world used to have many nations that thrived and grew and prospered. At least, that was what Q had gathered from his studies in history. From what he could gather, several of these countries allowed their citizens to move freely within the various social classes if they achieved the proper skills. Q would often wonder what it would have been like to live in one of those old nations: living under a single flag, while knowing that all expanses of the planet lived in the same fashion; to know he could choose the life he wanted to live as long as he worked hard enough.

It must have been nice.

But the world was different now. War and disaster had all but obliterated the old nation lines, setting the planet up as a blank canvas, and those who could gather land and power the fastest had their pick of land. The politically savvy rose to the top quickly and, as generations passed, new social lines had been developed.

It was never written down, who exactly had come up with the way of identifying a person by a single dominating trait: Body, Mind, Heart, Soul; but the system had stuck. Even from a young age, children were identified by their strongest traits, and for the rest of their lives, they would be known by that strength. It was as clear as if it was written on their faces, considering everyone bore tattoos on their arms and neck with the color that was meant to symbolize their trait.

It had never bothered Q that much to walk around blue ink twisting around his arms and neck, symbolizing his power of Mind. But then again, Q had never had to want for anything in his life. He had been born in the glorious palace of Neo Britannia, the youngest of three princes, all brilliant Minds. He had always been given the best of everything: best food, best clothes, and the best education, anything he could ever want was his to have.

In the gilded gates of the palace, it hardly mattered if one wore blue, green, yellow, or red markings. After all, the markings only told what a person’s strongest trait was.

Q knew better. He had, on several occasions, ventured out into the city under the cover of anonymity. It was there he saw the empire (he couldn’t call his nation anything else but an empire) from the point of view of the outsider.

He saw the banners glorifying his oldest brother, who had taken up ruling after the passing of their mother. He also saw how the Traits had become their own way of social castes.

Q and his brothers were all Minds, and so Q saw that those who wore blue ink were treated with respect. They became doctors, lawyers, educators.

But the rest…

Q saw how children were turned away from schools because they were red or green or yellow, he saw infants who had been abandoned (if not drowned) for no other reason than they were the “wrong” color.

He saw how unbalanced his homeland was. They were coming up with all sorts of advances in medicine, engineering, technology…

But the nation was crippled, starving and unable to support itself. There were little farmers who could grow or raise food, or merchants encouraging trade.

There were few soldiers to protect the citizens.

Even in the confines of the palace, he knew Neo Britannia was on the brink of war. News reached his ears long before his brother had called him into his office.

“There has been unrest in the West.” His brother had said calmly, “There is talk of revolution in the future.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” Q replied dryly.

The other man paid him no mind, “We have been negotiating with our neighbors to the north in order to form a more…cohesive military power.” He steepled his fingers, “Things have been progressing favorably, though there is the matter of your marriage to finalize the agreement.”

Q’s heart almost stopped, “Marriage?”

“You’re to wed Prince James of Skyfall the week following your 16th birthday.”

Both brothers knew that it was not a question or a request, but a statement, a command. His brother may have spoken of negotiations and alliances, but Q knew that he had just been sold in marriage. A prince in exchange for an army.

Never before had Q dreaded his birthday than the day he turned 16. A convoy from Skyfall arrived, with Prince James among them. The last thing Q wanted to do was meet his soon to be husband, but his brothers were hardly going to let him avoid the confrontation.

And so he stood in between his brothers as they greeted their guests, dread gathering in his stomach as he anticipated meeting the man he would spend the rest of his life with.

Prince James was not much older than Q, which was a small relief, and the other looked just as thrilled about their upcoming marriage as Q was. Other than that, Q had to admit he liked the way the prince looked. He was handsome enough, in a rugged fashion that was foreign to Q and his life in Neo Britannia, and he had a strong build, which wasn’t unexpected given the green ink of Body that wrapped around his neck and arms.

“Look how well matched they look…” The socialites gossiped throughout the party, eager to spread the latest news.

“Prince James is so rugged, and the young prince is so delicate. It’s just like the old stories.”

“Look, their eyes even match each other’s Traits.”

Q wanted to roll his eyes at the utter _garbage_ he kept hearing from party goers. Just because a lot of them had blue ink of the Mind didn’t mean they actually _used_ their minds. It was a waste really. And Q failed to see the romance in his arranged marriage.

Apparently Prince James felt the same, considering the fact Q had not seen him once during the party. His brothers had even scolded him for letting his fiancé out of sight.

“It looks bad on all of us.” They said in not so many words.

So Q found himself searching the palace for his missing fiancé. It was a terrible way to spend one’s birthday, that was for sure.

He found his betrothed in an empty lounge, making his way through his brother’s liquor cabinet.

“Making yourself at home, your highness?” Q asked dryly, slightly annoyed that the prince would leave the party and that Q hadn’t thought of it himself.

Prince James barely spared Q a glance up from his glass of vodka, “I take it the party is as lavish as ever, Prince—”

“Please, just call me Q.” Q shook his head, walking over to the chaise where his fiancé was lounging, “I can’t stand the name my mother gave me.”

“And out of all the letters in the alphabet, you picked Q as your nickname?” The blond smirked, amused and no doubt slightly buzzed from alcohol. “Though I suppose since we’re getting married, you should call me James. I really don’t want you calling me “your highness” when we’re in bed.”

Q flushed bright red, “Why you arrogant piece of—”

“Tell me, _Q_ ,” James was staring into his glass, swirling the liquid inside, “You ever been outside this fancy palace?”

“No, of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Q lied, making his way to the record player in the corner of the room. It was only when the music was playing as loud as it could (he couldn’t be bothered to notice _which_ song was playing) that he returned to where James was sitting, “Yes, I have.”

James raised an eyebrow, curious, “Big brothers keeping an eye on you?”

“My brothers are always listening.” Q said softly, sitting in the chair next to James.

The other nodded, taking another sip of his drink, “So is your country as much of a shithole as mine is?”

Q blushed, clearing his throat, “Well, I wouldn’t use those words exactly…”

“I’m no socialite or member of the propaganda squad, you can tell me what you really think.”

“It’s hell out there.” Q shook his head, looking at his hands, “We have all these advances in science…but the people are starving.”

“Yeah, I noticed a lot of blue at this party.” James shrugged, “Not exactly what I’m used to. It’s all about green: the best fighters, the strongest and the bravest. Of course, all that strength makes for good labor. So we’ve got all these amazing farms and factories and our army is unstoppable…”

“But…” Q gave James a knowing look.

“There’s a plague wiping the people out.” James continued, “I’ve read in the past that this disease was curable, but…we don’t exactly have the doctors for it.”

“So your people are sick and need doctors and my people are starving and need food.” Q smirked, taking James’s drink from him, taking a long drink, “And here I thought this marriage was just to combat the unrest in the West.”

James rolled his eyes, “It is.” He muttered, “I’ve heard that there are some areas that are rejecting the Trait system.”

Q blinked, “Wow…like in nations past.” He shook his head, taking another drink, “I must admit, I don’t know how it would work…”

“People find their own traits instead of being told what they are.” James replied with a scoff, “Imagine that, people being free to _choose_ how they want to spend their lives.”

“How absolutely outrageous.” Q answered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “How on Earth will people know how to live their lives without us telling them how to do it?”

There was a moment neither of them said anything. Then James began to laugh, “Oh, this will be a fun marriage, I can tell.” He quickly got himself a new glass, filling it with more liquor, “A toast,” he said to Q, raising his glass, “We may be ruling in hell, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

Q smiled, toasting his glass to James’s, “I can drink to that.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Wedding was the event of the century. Both James and Q knew it, their families would not allow it to be any other way. The weeks leading up to their wedding will filled with all sorts of propaganda, going on about unity between two nations that would stand strong against the chaos of the surrounding nations.

It made Q sick to his stomach, and his only consolation was the fact that he knew James hated the farce just as much as he did. In fact, it was slightly comforting in Q’s mind, knowing that he had an ally…even if the two of them couldn’t do much about it.

The wedding itself was the most over the top, gaudy, and publicized event Q had ever witnessed. And he was a member of the Neo Brittannia royal family, he knew gaudy events. But Q also knew better than to act out during his own wedding—not with his brothers watching them as close as they were.

So there was really nothing he could do to stop himself from being married off to a foreign prince. And Q could see the same reluctance in James’s eyes—it wasn’t as if they hated one another, they just didn’t want to be in that situation.

To be honest, the day was a blur to Q: at one point, he was Q, a young prince, the next, he was married to another prince. From the wedding, there was a feast to end all feasts (though Q couldn’t help but be horrified at how many starving people he could have fed with the meal) and before Q even knew it, he and James were being shoved onto a train to go off and celebrate their “honeymoon.”

“It’s not like you’ll actually be forced to sleep with him,” Q’s middle brother had teased, “And I imagine if he does try to force you, you could always drug one of his drinks.”

Q’s middle brother was always a bit creepy that way.

So James and Q found themselves in an overly lavish train car, trying to figure who should break the silence first.

Apparently, it was James, “I don’t know if that wedding could have been any more painful.” He grumbled, making his way to the wet bar.

Q snorted, “At least you didn’t have to wear the torture suit I did.”

“Yeah, what was with that?” James poured himself a drink, then offered to pour Q one as well.

This time, Q declined. “I can’t say for sure. Maybe Mycroft was punishing me for something, or maybe my brothers just wanted to see me suffer.” He sighed, rubbing his temples, “I’m just glad I could change before we left…do you know where we’re going, exactly?”

James shook his head, taking a drink of…whatever it was in his glass, “No idea, really. We’re just off to have a romantic honeymoon, supposedly.”

Well that was comforting. “So…what happens to us now?” Q asked quietly, “I mean, I don’t think I ever learned what we’re supposed to do next. Do I live with you in your nation? Do you live here?”

There was a long pause in which neither James nor Q said anything, lost in the thoughts of what their future might hold. While they were both princes, they were also practically powerless to change anything about their lives. They couldn’t even stop their own wedding.

The silence was cut by the screeching of the train against the tracks, lurching forward and sending James and Q sprawling out onto the floor.

“What the hell…” Q groaned, picking himself off the floor. James was already standing up, covered in the remains of his drink.

The sounds of shouts sounded through the train, followed by the chaotic noise of violence.

James looked at Q, “I have a feeling we were never meant to make it to our destination.” He said flatly.

Q could feel his blood run cold. They were under attack. What could he do, he had never been in any danger before in his life, he wouldn’t know where to _start_ with defending himself.

Luckily for him, he happened to have a husband covered in green Body tattoos.

“Get down.” James hissed, moving Q so he was hiding behind bar. He then proceeded to grab the largest bottle of liquor at the bar and smashed it against the granite counter, leaving the jagged neck in James’s hands.

The doors to their car were kicked in shortly after that, and a horde of black-clad attackers stormed in. That was all Q could see before he ducked under the bar, hoping it would all be over soon.

Q could hear the shouts and grunts of the attackers, as well as a few from James. He could only imagine the struggle that was happening, and he could only imagine the type of fighter his new husband was turning out to be.

A blast echoed through the car, and Q could see blood splattered against the wall above his head. Q’s dinner threatened to make a reappearance at the sight of James thrown back against the bar, his body lying limp and blood dripping down his arm. There was blood on the bottleneck in his hand, though Q couldn’t tell if it was James’s or one of their attackers.

A weak groan sounded from James, and Q could see the slow movement of his hand  loosening his grip on the bloody bottleneck, dropping it in Q’s lap. James went quiet after that.

It was all Q could do to keep from vomiting or fainting at the horror unfolding. But before he could even think to be scared, a hand grabbed him and pulled him up over the bar. In a bling panic, Q gripped the broken bottle and slashed at his attacker.

There was a curse from the man (it was a masculine curse) before Q felt something hard collide with his head. The world began to spin and fade in and out of focus. Soon the only things he could focus on were the voices of the mysterious attackers.

“Someone radio it in, tell Alec we’ve got them.”

“Roger that.”

Then Q’s world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Q’s head was throbbing gained consciousness. The sounds he heard, no matter how quiet, were like hammers to his skull. It was only when his mind caught up with the events leading up to his concussion that Q found himself opening his eyes, if due to shock more than anything else.

He was laying on a cot, though he couldn’t really distinguish what type of building he was in. There were no windows, and the walls of the room appeared to have been molded out of concrete. In fact, it still looked damp in some areas. There was also a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, offering the only light available in the dank room.

“Ah, you’re awake then.”

The voice startled Q, causing him to turn quickly and aggravate the pain in his skull.

“Careful, you have quite a bump on the head. You don’t want to make yourself sick now.

Once Q’s vision cleared, he could see that there was another cot in the room (cell?), where James was currently lying unconscious. The source of the voice was another man, who was currently leaning over James with a medical kit. It was only after a few slow movements of the man’s hand that Q realized that he was stitching James up.

“What…”

The man looked at Q, “Don’t worry, I’m just stitching up your husband’s gunshot wound. Luckily for him, it didn’t hit anything important.” He chuckled, carefully closing the wound, “I’ve seen plenty of soldiers who haven’t been so lucky during my time in the military…”

Q didn’t say anything at first, taking the opportunity to observe the man. Really, he was completely unassuming: he wasn’t built tall or strong, with a kind face and faded blonde hair. But it was the bold red lines that were twisted around his wrists and neck that stood out to Q. “I don’t understand, how…”

“How I am both a soldier and a doctor, despite being neither blue nor green?” The man looked at Q, amused, “You will find, your highness, that it takes quite a bit of Heart to be either of those, let alone both.”

With that, the Heart stood, picking up his medical bag and making his way to the only opening in the entire room, a heavy iron beast of a door. The sound of his knuckles rapping against the metal echoed in the room and in Q’s skull.

The door opened shortly afterward with a low creaking noise.

“They’ll both be fine.” The doctor said to the person on the other side of the door, “And the Neo Britannian prince is awake.”

“Thank you John.” A voice answered from beyond the doorway, “I need you to continue to your next assignment.”

The Heart, John, nodded, “Of course, Alec,” and with that, he left the empty room. The doorway remained open, however, as the owner of the new voice stepped through the doorway.

“Nice to see you’re awake.” The newcomer smiled, making his way towards Q.

Q immediately got up from his cot, moving to James side (and more importantly, away from the stranger). He recognized the name as the one spoken by the ones who had attacked him and James.

“Relax.” The man, Alec, said smoothly, “If we had wanted either of you dead, we would have killed you on the train, instead of bringing you here.”

“And where is here?” Q asked, unconsciously taking hold of one of James’s hand.

Alec smirked, “You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that easily, do you?”

Realistically, Q knew it had been unlikely, but it sure hadn’t hurt to try, “So what do you want from us? Money? Are you going to ransom us?”

A laugh sounded from Alec as he stood at the foot of James’s cot, watching both Q and the still unconscious James, “Nothing so mundane, your highness.” He chuckled, “You see, you’re going to help us overthrow your countries.”

It was then that Q realized, with slight horror, that he couldn’t see any sort of color around Alec’s wrists and neck. Instead, there were thick patterns of burns where there should have been ink. “You’re a rebel.”

In hindsight, it was a rather stupid observation. Even Alec seemed amused, “So you’ve noticed?” He smirked, rolling up his sleeves so Q could see the scars better, “I had them burned off when I decided I couldn’t stand watching tyrannical families like yours destroy lives anymore.” He crossed his arms, “So, your majesty, care to aid in a revolution?”

Q felt James stirring under his hand, and turned his gaze toward his husband. James’s eyes were slightly unfocused as he blinked them open, “…Q?” he groaned, “…What’s going on?”

“We’ve been kidnapped by rebels.” Q replied, not bothering to mince words, “They want us to overthrow our families.”

James grimaced, “Sounds like fun…”

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Are we really going to do this?” Q asked quietly, carefully changing James’s bandages. “I mean, we’re going to revolt against our families…”

James winced slightly as he tried to sit up in his cot, “Q, we both hate the way things are going right now. And now, we either curl up and die, or we fight.” He took a deep breath, a hand on Q’s shoulder as his husband helped him stand, “And I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand what my Uncle Silva has done to my country.”

Q nodded slowly, “…this is certainly some honeymoon.”

“It’s already going much better than what I expected.”

The young Mind delivered an elbow to James’s stomach, causing him to grunt in pain.

“Nice to see the newlyweds being so loving.” Both Q and James turned to see Alec standing in the doorway. The rebel was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed across his chest and a cocky smirk on his face. “You two think you can behave well enough to come outside for a bit?”

“No, I think we’ll act out and get ourselves killed.” Q rolled his eyes, “We said we would help, didn’t we?”

Alec shrugged, “Being a rebel doesn’t exactly teach you to be trusting.” He chuckled, “Especially with the world’s sweetheart couple.”

The rebel leader began to walk toward the couple. James, being the chivalrous Body that he was, stepped in front of Q and blocked Alec’s view of him. Alec only smirked, amused by their antics, “Come on, you two. It’s time for you to see your new home.”

There wasn’t much that James and Q could do but follow Alec, especially if they were going to be joining the resistance (which Q was still trying to accept in his logical mind—he knew the chances of victory was slim…).

They were underground, that much was obvious. All of the rebels were working in a makeshift camp that filled the cold stone underground. There were people of all Traits (not all of them had burned their marks, apparently) working on weapons, on medicine, on things Q couldn’t even recognize.

“This is a fully functioning army…” James muttered quietly.

“Why thank you.” Alec smirked, winking at them.

Q rolled his eyes, looking at what he assumed was the medic’s area. He saw several doctors working on wounded and sick, but none he recognized, “Where’s John?” It wasn’t like he knew the Heart, but John was the only other familiar face.

Alec chuckled, “John’s on a mission, it’s crucial in the next step of the plan.”

***

The Neo Britannia palace was one of the strongest and most stunning buildings in the entire kingdom.

But it could also be incredibly dull.

Q was not the only prince who would sneak into the city in the dark of night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for innocent reasons.

With a long dark coat and a scarf wrapped his neck, the prince stumbled along the filthy city streets. His mind was buzzing with narcotics, hoping to dull his thoughts of the barrage of mindless drivel that was occurring around him. All of them were _so stupid_ …

It wasn’t long before the effects of the drugs began to hit him, and the world began to spin out of focus…

“Careful!”

An arm wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him out from the chaotic street and propping him up against a sturdy building. “Goodness, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

It only took the prince a cursory glance of the good Samaritan for him to break apart the basics of his character, “…Who let a Heart become a doctor?”

The smaller man in front of him blinked in surprise, “How…”

“You reek of disinfectant and iodine.”

“And you reek of cocaine and vomit.” The man countered.

The prince blinked. It wasn’t often (read: never) that someone spoke back to him in such a manner. No doubt the man would be cowering if he knew who he was.

It was amusing.

However, the man seemed more concerned with getting him off the street, “Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe so you can sleep this off…” He smiled softly, ever the Heart, “I’m John, by the way.”

The prince opened his mouth, trying to clear away the ill taste of vomit from his mouth, “Sherlock.”


End file.
